Throughout life, you want to paint
this beautiful picture—
your goals,
the things you need to achieve.
It’s not about wants
when you become an adult.
Money should never be handed over
to pacify wrongdoings;
it should come from hard work.
A child’s first heartbreak
doesn’t come from a stranger—
it comes from their parents.
When a child does their hardest
to achieve things in life,
regardless of their parents’
drawn-out vision,
a heartstring shatters
big time.
It takes three to bear a child:
God, and two Earth beings—
a woman and a man.
It’s called thinking logically;
otherwise, more people
would not stand here today.
Hearts are adorable;
they absorb like sponges.
So never take someone’s heart for granted.
Learn to listen to it,
and never doubt a kind heart,
because in the end,
you will end up with nothing.
Learn to watch with your eyes
and listen with your ears,
rather than go off hearsay.
Because you never know
who is the one carrying the venom.
This pain hurts,
and I know many others can see it—
without even knowing me personally.
I’m pushing through
as hard as I can.
Being told you can do anything
you set your heart and mind to
should be the ticket
to ignite the fire.
Yet there are pine needles,
like venomous snakes
waiting to sever my dreams.
I can read your eyes like a storybook.
I will quickly draw back from you,
and that’s no fucking joke.
I become extremely tired
of dealing with my medical conditions,
wishing I could hang it the fuck up.
But this is reality,
written in a book.
Yet, I am working deeply within myself
to change what I can.
And through this,
I am focusing—
helping others.
Even though hearing “you can’t work”
leaves an excruciating pain,
this journey is extremely hard.
Some have been super supportive,
while I can’t say much about others—
they continue creating obstacles
to keep me stagnant.
I have moments where
I draw back,
keep to myself,
because some don’t want to hear my story
through these tears I’ve cried.
It’s not for sympathy.
Most people who lack knowledge
won’t understand.
I rely on my poetry
as my therapy.
Through words I release,
I find no judgment.
I can return—
without the pain
that birthed this art.
And so,
I will continue to write,
to share my emotions.
You think this poetry is about you?
Don’t you?
